


Apologies

by eternaleponine



Series: Ghosts That We Knew [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Deleted Scene, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 04:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A deleted scene that occurs between chapters 13 and 14 in <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/951779/chapters/1861493">Time for a Sign</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apologies

Natasha knocked on Jessica's door even though it was cracked open. An oversight on the other girl's part, she assumed. They weren't really much of an open door kind of house; they had their reasons. But she wasn't going to invade Jess's space without good reason, and right now, she had every reason to want to keep Natasha out.

"Who is it?" Jessica called, as if she didn't know. Mr. Fury's bedroom was downstairs and he rarely came up. If he needed them, he usually just called for them and they came down. The upstairs had become their space, a fact that both of them appreciated. It just felt... safer.

"Natasha."

She heard movement on the other side of the door, and then Jessica appeared, not opening the door any wider, just peering out so that Natasha could see half of her face, one dark eye, slightly narrowed. "Oh, you're back?"

As if she didn't know again. As if she hadn't been listening to the entire conversation Natasha had just had with Mr. Fury. It was _possible_ she hadn't been... but it wasn't very likely. Certainly if the roles had been reversed, Natasha would have been listening, rightly or wrongly. Jessica's business was her own, and she didn't try to pry... but she had to know what was going on. 

Why would Jessica think any differently?

"I'm back," Natasha confirmed. "I can come in?"

Jessica looked at her for a long time, then finally shrugged and stepped back, letting her in. Natasha shut the door behind her, making sure it was closed. Jessica flopped down on her bed and flipped the page in whatever textbook she was pretending to study from, like she wasn't curious why Natasha had come to her room, asked to come in, which didn't happen all that often (read: ever). 

"I want to say I'm sorry," Natasha said. 

"For what?" Jessica asked, not even looking at her, but Natasha had seen the slight hesitation as she'd moved to turn another page. Natasha was willing to bet that she hadn't seen a single word on the page, and she wasn't likely to. All appearances aside, she had Jess's full attention.

"For leaving last night." That wasn't exactly it, but Natasha wasn't the sort of person who spilled everything all at once. She wasn't big on explaining herself, but this time she felt like she owed it to Jess. 

Jessica shrugged. "Why?"

"Because I am sorry," Natasha replied. 

It occurred to her then that maybe Jessica didn't really know her well enough to understand that that meant something. Natasha wasn't big on apologies; she wouldn't say the words unless she meant them, and it was rare that she meant them. She tried not to have regrets.

And she didn't regret standing by Clint when Mr. Fury had told her he couldn't stay. He'd stood by her through hell, and whatever her other feelings for him were, she owed him a debt for that. She owed him her loyalty and support. 

She did regret leaving Jessica behind, though, alone in a situation that she was still getting used to, with no real support system (she had Carol, but could Carol really be relied on?), especially when Jess had actually said, had actually put herself out there and asked –if not in so many words – them not to leave. She'd been willing to talk to Mr. Fury on their behalf...

It hadn't been right to leave her on her own. 

They didn't always get along; they weren't the best of friends, and they weren't exactly sisters, but it was something somewhere in between, perhaps, and Natasha had turned her back on it like it meant nothing. It had been eating away at her, and now that she was back, she had to try to make it right.

"Fine. You're sorry. Good for you," Jessica said. "What's that got to do with me?"

Natasha suppressed a sigh, not sure if she should try to explain. Jessica had every right to be angry, and she had every right not to be ready to forgive her. Which was another reason why Natasha rarely apologized; it always felt like a selfish act. Saying you were sorry didn't undo what you'd done, didn't unsay what you'd said. It didn't reverse the pain inflicted. It was about making yourself feel better; it was too late for the one who the apology was owed to.

In the end, she didn't know what to say, how to answer, so she didn't. She just turned and left, going to her own room. She had homework to do.

Mr. Fury called up to them later that he had to go out, school board meeting or something, and they were on their own for dinner. They did the cooking often as not anyway (still a terrifying prospect when it was Jessica's turn) so it wasn't a big deal.

Natasha heard Jessica in the hallway, heading downstairs because it was her night to cook, although if it was just the two of them sometimes they just found what leftovers they could, or had cereal if they were feeling particularly lazy. Her footsteps went past, then stopped, came back.

A knock, and then her door cracked open before she had a chance to respond. "Are you coming down?" Jessica asked.

Natasha got up immediately and followed her down the stairs. Jess had apparently decided on pasta, which was generally pretty foolproof unless she decided to get experimental with the sauce. Based on the ingredients she was pulling out, though, it looked like she was planning to keep it simple this time. 

Jessica handed her a chunk of parmesan, and Natasha got out the grater, turning the hard cheese into fluffy little shavings while Jessica put water on to boil and began snapping stalks of asparagus. 

"He said that Clint could have stayed the night," she said, not really out of nowhere. "You could have sorted it out today, like you did. You could have stayed."

"I know," Natasha said. "I was angry."

"What if he hadn't let you come back?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "We would think of something."

"Is Clint's foster family...?"

"They are talking," Natasha said. "I think they will let him come back."

"If they don't?"

"I don't know," Natasha said again.

"I tried to tell Mr. Fury—"

"Is okay," Natasha said. "It will be okay."

"I don't see why he can't stay here," Jessica said. "Clint. He's here all the time anyway. You're practically married."

Natasha snorted. "I think I am too young for that."

"Maybe," Jessica said. She was quiet for a few minutes, busying herself with the skillet. "Would you?"

Natasha looked at her, frowning. "What?"

"Marry him. If you could."

"I don't know," Natasha said. "I do not think of this."

She had, though, once or twice. Her visa wasn't going to last forever, and it was a solution – a possible solution – albeit a rather mercenary one. Not that it would be about that, not really. But it was still hard to think past the new few days or weeks, whatever she might sometimes daydream about. 

"I think you would," Jessica said. 

"Maybe so," Natasha agreed.

"Can you get the..." Jessica gestured vaguely toward the counter, and Natasha reached over and pulled out the chef's knife. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Natasha said. 

And then they were quiet, but it was a peaceful quiet, more or less. If all wasn't forgotten, Natasha thought maybe it had been forgiven, and maybe Jessica understood somehow without her having to explain.


End file.
